


Christmas Day

by magnoliatattoo (theladyinthecape)



Series: Marital Bliss [3]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-09-09 03:08:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8873458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theladyinthecape/pseuds/magnoliatattoo
Summary: Belle and Rumple prepare for Christmas morning, and Rumple gets a surprise gift. Sex by the Christmas Tree, what more could you want?





	

**Author's Note:**

> This one is for MarieQuiteContrarie, who really needs Rumple to get some. :) And who also prompted Christmas with Rose.
> 
> She is a terrific beta and wonderful friend. I honestly don't know what I would do without her. <3

Rumple groaned a little too loudly as he flipped to page 23 of the large, Victorian-style dollhouse instruction booklet. It was Christmas Eve, and like all fathers in this realm, he was busy playing Santa Claus to his two-and-a-half-year-old daughter Rose. His wife, Belle, was busy wrapping multitudes of presents at the large dining table, and failed to acknowledge his loud whine from the living room.

 

“Belle!” he called out, exhausted and frustrated, the tug of a headache beginning from squinting at poorly drawn diagrams in the instruction booklet. “Be-l-l-e!”

 

His beauty tromped around the corner of the living room’s entrance, an irritated look on her face.

 

“Rumple! What is it? You are going to wake Rose!” she exclaimed, walking over to him with her hands on her hips. 

 

“Please, my love, my wife, PLEASE, let me just…” He flourished his hands with a scowl, his eyes beseeching his wife to allow him to use his magic to construct the infernal toy.

 

Belle threw her head back and laughed, then looked down at the Dark One, quite literally on his knees, begging to use his powers. No other person in all the realms held such power over the sorcerer, but he relished it, knowing it was for the best. He agreed the day Rose was born that he would not use magic in their house or with Rose unless Belle agreed, and he had found in those years that he was a stronger man for it. Now, he actually dealt with problems instead of magicking them away - his version of running and hiding - and he and Belle talked through issues, supporting each other through life’s ups and downs, loving each other through it all.

 

Most of the time. 

 

Now, however, he could not see why it was so important for him to piece together the entirety of this 250-piece dollhouse by hand.

 

“But where is the fun in that, Rumple?” Belle asked with a cheeky grin.. “Besides, I love watching you work with your hands.” She winked and blew him a kiss before retreating from the room. 

 

“Slave driver,” he muttered under his breath as he set back to work. 

 

“I heard that!”

 

Rumple rolled his eyes and picked up the screwdriver, feeling around for one of the small packages of screws scattered about on the floor.

 

About two hours later, Belle had finished arranging the Santa gifts under the tree, and she stepped back to peruse her work. The room was overflowing with presents, family gifts to each other tucked under the tree, and the gifts to Rose from Santa branching out in every direction. Belle giggled in delight and turned to her husband.

 

“She is going to be so excited! I can’t wait!”

 

Rumple looked up from his cross-legged position on the floor to watch his wife proudly filling the stockings by the fire. He was still only about halfway done with the dollhouse, and though as the Dark One he really didn’t require much sleep, he was tired. Tired of small screws and sticky decals, tired of balsam wood chairs and miniature plates. Trying not to grouse, he rose to his feet to step up behind his wife. 

 

“Someone certainly has been a good girl this year,” he said, wrapping his arms about her waist..

 

“Yes, it does appear that she made The Nice List, doesn’t it?” Belle smiled, turning into his arms, and looping hers around his shoulders. She raised up on her tiptoes to kiss him when he pulled back. 

 

“I wasn’t talking about Rose, but yes, Santa has been quite generous this year,” he quipped, a mischievous glint in his soft brown eyes. 

 

Without moving them from their spot by the fire, he reached into one of the stockings and pulled out a small box, perfectly wrapped in glittery gold paper, a large shining bow of the same paper adorning the top. 

 

“Oooh! What could this be?” Belle took the box from his hands, and gingerly touched the bow, her eyes bright with joy and a brilliant smile lighting up her face.

 

“Open it,” Rumplestiltskin urged, stepping back a bit to allow her space to open her present. 

Belle tugged at the paper, letting small shreds fall to the floor around them, and uncovered a black velvet hinged box. She gasped as she opened the box, and Rumple smiled in satisfaction as her eyes grew wide and her mouth fell agape.

 

Inside was a Y-shaped necklace in rose gold, with six small blue sapphires carved into the shapes of roses placed an inch apart in the front. The necklace was exquisitely crafted, and the weight of it in her hand indicated that it was solid gold.

There was only one man in all of Storybrooke who had access to solid gold, and as well as the skilled hands and patience to make such a delicate and invaluable work of art.

 

“Rumple…” Belle whispered, at a loss for words, as her husband took the jewelry from her hand and motioned for her to turn around.. Belle presented her back and he fastened the chain around her neck as she gathered her chestnut locks into one hand. She faced him again, and a grin that could only be described as goofy pride spread across his chiseled face.

 

“Did you…” she breathed, her fingers coming up to caress the sparkling sapphires.

 

“Yes,” he answered. He knew the question she was asking, and he loved being able to answer in the affirmative, loved knowing that he was able to make her so happy, proud that his handiwork could bring such a smile to her full, soft lips.

 

Belle turned to look in the mirror that hung above the mantle. Stretched up on her tiptoes, she turned this way and that, and did a small dance of joy in receiving her gift.

 

“It’s so intricate. Where in the realm did you find sapphire roses?” she asked, catching his gaze in the mirror. 

 

“Magic,” he replied, a small smirk on his face. “But don’t fret, sweetheart. That necklace was forged at the shop only, I brought it home today. Not one ounce of magic was spilled in our home,” he said, light-hearted sarcasm tinging his voice.

 

Belle cocked an eyebrow at him in the mirror, her smile widening into a sly grin, and she pirouetted to face him once more. 

 

“Ah, so you found a loophole, did you, husband?” Belle asked through lowered lashes, stepping closer to him in a show of mock confrontation.

 

“It’s what I do,” he said, stepping back to take in the sight of his wife. “Now, let me see. I don’t think the necklace matches so well with that shirt.” He flicked his wrist,  popping  two buttons off of  Belle’s white oxford.

 

Belle drew a quick breath, the unexpected undressing catching her off-guard. 

 

“You don’t?” she asked, striking what she could of a pose with him so close. 

 

“No.”  He pulled the shirt from her shoulders, making haste with the remaining buttons, and dropped the shirt to the floor. As she was want to do at home, Belle was braless, and at the pinnacle of the necklace was the largest sapphire rose. It fell to the exact level of her breasts, resting on the creamy white flesh of her cleavage.

 

“And these jeans, no, those aren’t right, either,” he said, kneeling down to tug them over her strong, curvaceous legs, lifting one foot out of the pants, then the other, and discarding the clothing behind him. He allowed his fingers to trace the insides of her thighs as he rose. 

 

“Aye, that’s much better,” he said, his brogue thick and rough. His eyes raked over her body, naked but for pale pink lace panties and the necklace. Her warm brown curls gleamed red and gold in the firelight, and Belle stood there, the heat of the fire warring with the heat building in her core, her skin flushing a bright pink under her husband’s lustful scrutiny.

 

“Do you like what you see, Dark One?” Belle asked playfully.

 

Instead of answering, Rumple’s lips crashed down on hers, and he kissed her hard and slow, his tongue moving sinuously against hers as they both fought for control of the kiss. 

Rumplestiltskin’s hand crept up behind her head, his fingers twining through her hair, and he pulled her away from the fireplace a bit, not once breaking the kiss. 

 

He kissed her until she was quite literally out of breath, one arm around her waist and bending her back, purposely driving her to an unbalanced state to heighten the sensations. His hand lowered down from her head to squeeze her full breast, and he swallowed the moan she made as his thumb brushed over her nipple. 

 

Breaking the kiss, but still bending her back slightly, his eyes locked with hers. His gaze was dark, full of desire and intent, and her blue eyes matched his in intensity, but with a silent acquiescence to the game they played. Belle was not the subservient type, but she often relished the submissive role when they made love.

 

Rumple’s hand on her breast gave a long, pulling squeeze, and a tiny bead of milk oozed from her nipple. While she had not breastfed Rose for over a year now, she still produced a little, and Rumple knew just how to massage her to letdown the smallest amount. He lowered his head and licked at her nipple, repeating the same squeeze until another drop appeared, lapping it up before claiming her mouth once more. 

 

Belle was breathless in his arms, and he stood her upright as they released their embrace. He once more stood back, his dark eyes roving over her body until she could feel his gaze on her skin, and he set his sights on her crotch. 

 

“Take those off,” he said huskily, as he removed his vest and rolled up his sleeves. 

 

Belle obeyed, sliding the lace panties down her legs, bending only at the waist the way she knew he enjoyed. She picked them up and held them out to him, dangling them from her index finger, and he took them and folded them neatly, and placed them in his front pants pocket. 

 

“You are astonishingly beautiful, Belle,” Rumple said, gazing intently into her eyes. As much as he knew of this world and all the others; with everything he had seen in  three centuries of life, he would never fully comprehend how he was so deserving of a woman as beautiful as Belle. It was though her soul existed in her flesh, as though she were forged of light and love and purity and not the flesh and bone of a mere mortal.

 

She was his Goddess, his Savior, the Light to his Dark, his True Love. Nothing could be more beautiful.

 

Belle melted at his words, a smile adorning her flushed face. Even after the years together, the hard times and the mundane, the challenges of who they were, and raising a child together, Rumple still made her feel like the most special person in all the realms. When he looked at her, she felt as though they were the only two people in the world, that she was made for him, and that she belonged to him, was part of him.

 

“Stay there,” he said, walking around her towards their Christmas tree. Belle craned her neck to see what he was doing, and a small whine of protest escaped her lips as he pulled a ribbon from one of the wrapped gifts.

 

“I’m sure we have more,” he said, knowing his wife would be less than pleased that he messed with her Christmas wrapping. Stepping behind her, he looped the ribbon around one wrist behind her back, and pulled the other close to it, winding the restraint around both wrists loosely and tying it off with a bow.

 

“Now, step apart a little, my sweet,” he instructed, as he came around to kneel in front of her.

 

Belle’s breath hitched in her throat, her arousal growing with each command and the gentle tightness of the wrist restraints. Knowing what he was about to do had her trembling with need already, and he had not even touched her yet. 

 

“Excited, are we, dear?” Rumple gazed up at his wife as he placed his hands on the outside of her thighs, and licked the small drop of arousal that had started to drip down the inside of one. Stopping before he reached her folds, he nosed at her slit, breathing in her humid, musky scent. 

 

“I’m going to devour you,” he growled, her beast on his knees.

 

Belle wasn’t to speak during these times when he was in control, unless it was to have him stop or because something hurt, but she was allowed to be vocal in her pleasure and encouragement.  She moaned loudly, shunting her hips forward slightly, silently begging for more.

 

“Greedy little wife,” Rumple whispered against the swollen flesh of her sex. Belle felt herself dripping from her core, and Rumple’s tongue darted out to catch the drop before it fell. He swiped his tongue up her slit, and Belle keened, wanting more.

 

“Ah ah,” Rumple tsked, pulling back from her. “Patience, sweetheart,” he said, before licking her once more. 

 

Rumple teased at her entrance for long minutes, never once using his hands or making contact with her inner sex. No, he was teasing her into a frenzy, and Belle began to quiver with need, her legs shaking with arousal. 

 

“Rumple, please,” she begged as he once more licked up and down, teasing her entrance with his tongue, but not penetrating her or touching her clit.

 

“Please what? What does my wanton wife want?” he asked, rising up to his feet, standing close enough to touch without making contact, his dark eyes branding her.

 

“Please, touch me?” Belle asked, eyes wide in a plea.

 

“No.” 

 

Belle closed her eyes to regain her composure, her effort in standing still through his first round of ministrations causing a sheen of perspiration to glow between her breasts. The sapphire necklace slid up and down over her slick skin as she breathed deeply to recover. 

 

Rumple placed a chaste kiss to each breast, then between them on top of the sapphire that lay against her breastbone. He smiled at the evidence of her efforts to keep her poise, and decided to up his game. 

 

“Lay down, my love. Right here.”

 

Belle lowered herself to the floor, lying on her back on the thick woolen area rug. The rug was plush, but slightly rough against her heated skin, and it felt like tiny, tingling pin pricks against her back. It was just on the pleasurable side of pain, and reminiscent of the tingle of Rumple’s magic. Oh, yes, there were times when she missed his magic.

 

Rumple fetched a small throw pillow from the couch to place under her head. She had brought her hands in front when she crouched to the floor, and he raised them over her head and tightened the glittery, red ribbon restraint. 

 

“Are you comfortable?” he asked.

 

“Yes,” she breathed, watching her husband as he began to undress.

 

Rumple discarded his clothes in a pile and stood before her prone form. Belle’s eyes drank in the mouthwatering sight of him, his tanned skin stretching over his long, hard muscles, his thin but wiry chest sprinkled with salt and pepper hair. Gods, he was sexy…he oozed power and confidence and experience, a trifecta of sensuality. She could not get enough of him, and they fit together perfectly.

 

Her lower belly coiled and fluttered as she gazed at her naked husband. He was large, and girthy, and Belle smiled at her well-endowed husband. Rumple began to stroke his hardening member to full attention, alternating long, tugging pulls with dips to massage his scrotum. 

 

“Do you like what you see, little wife?”

 

Belle could only nod and smile, but she drew her knees up to her chest and crossed her ankles in a seductive display. The soft, pink skin of her sex glistened with moisture, sparkling much like the wrapping paper on the gifts under the tree. Rumple smirked to himself, the comparison a cheeky cliche, but Belle was his gift, and he knew exactly how to unwrap her properly.

 

Rumple kneeled in front of his wife and took one of her tiny feet into his warm hand. Her foot was cold, despite the fire, and he rubbed it gently, massaging the soft, muscular flesh of her arch as he raised her toes to his lips. He placed small kisses to the pad of each small toe, and when he reached her big toe, he sucked it into his mouth, the warm wet sensation providing Belle with a small glimpse of what it was like when he was buried inside her. She squealed, low and breathy, as he sucked and licked her toe, then arched her back as she began to writhe with tension. 

 

Releasing her with a pop, Rumple continued to kiss her up the inside of her leg, stopping once he reached the apex of her thighs. Belle was breathing laboriously, her eyes navy with desire, her hips rolling involuntarily. Rumple straightened up on his knees, lowering Belle’s legs and spreading them further apart. 

 

“Baby, please…” Belle begged, needing something, anything, to soothe the pulsing ache of desire. 

 

“Shh, my sweet,” Rumple said as he brought two fingers to her lips. Belle licked and sucked them greedily, just for a moment, before he pulled them back and plunged them into her core. 

 

Gods, she felt amazing. She was warm and wet, her inner flesh firm and slightly rough, and he slid two rigid fingers into and out of her slowly, careful not to touch the bundle of nerves just above. He was working her into a frenzy, offering just enough pressure and friction to bring her to the edge, but not enough to send her over. 

 

He closed his eyes, relishing the feel of her, and while he continued to pump her with one hand, he brought his other palm down to stroke his  cock, the rhythm the same for both of them, and as he opened his eyes he saw Belle struggling to maintain her self-control. 

 

“Rumple! I'm going to come!” Belle fought hard to hold off her orgasm, knowing that succumbing to her own need was not the point of the game, but unlike her magical husband, her ability had its limits. 

 

“No, no, not yet,” Rumple said as he withdrew his fingers abruptly, and Belle cried out. She was panting, her back arching and relaxing, her body strung so tight she thought she might snap from the tension. He brought his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean, delighting in the sweet, salty taste of her. Rumple gave her a few moments to calm down, continuing to palm himself as he watched her settle.

 

Once she quieted, Rumplestiltskin moved to straddle her stomach, and leaned down to kiss her swollen lips deeply, sharing her flavor, moaning into her mouth. He inched further up her body, drawing back and up from the kiss as she did, and took both breasts in hand to begin the next round of torture. He trailed light fingers over the smooth, sensitive skin on the underside of her breasts, then rolled each erect nipple between his forefinger and thumb. 

 

Belle closed her eyes and hummed with pleasure as Rumple continued to caress her breasts. Each tug he gave of her nipples sent shot a spark of pleasure to her dripping center. His squeezes became harder, more pulling and tugging, and she released small streams of milk that dripped down her breasts. Opening her eyes, she looked down to see the head of his cock placed between them, his hands milking her, lubricating her skin. She peered up through her lashes and opened her mouth, lowering her chin and inviting him in.

 

With a growl, Rumple accepted his wife’s invitation. Her breastmilk was smeared over her chest, and he pushed her breasts together to squeeze his cock as he inched forward, beginning to pump himself between her tits. Belle curved her lips around her teeth, not wanting to hurt him, and with each thrust he rubbed his shaft in between her milk-slicked breasts, the bulbous head of his cock shallowly entered her warm, wet, inviting mouth. 

 

It was complete debauchery, watching himself fuck his wife’s breasts and mouth like this. His balls tightened and gods,  he was  so close…

 

Looking down on her face, her eyes shut,  long dark lashes fanning against her flushed pink cheeks, Rumplestiltskin stilled and shifted back, bringing his face to hers as she looked up at him in surprise. He placed a deep, lingering kiss to her lips, the tenderness of it contradicting the depraved acts just prior, and as he broke the kiss he smiled.

 

“Gods, I love you, Belle,” he whispered, emotion stealing his voice. He reached up with one hand to untie the ribbon around her wrists, and brought one hand to his lips to kiss away the redness where she had been restrained. 

 

“And I love you, too, Rumplestiltskin,” Belle whispered back, using her newly freed hands to caress his cheeks and bring him back to her for another kiss.

 

Rumple shifted back more, now laying prone on top of her, his weight a sensual pressure against her, and guided himself slowly inside, inch by inch, the firm, wide head of his cock stroking her upper wall, finding that place that drove her mad with ardor. He watched his wife’s face as he filled her completely, her mouth falling open and forming an ‘O’ and her eyes rolling back as she submitted to pleasure. Belle’s knees rose a little and they rocked together, staring into each other’s eyes with breathtaking intensity. His thrusts were slow and complete, stretching Belle open, spreading her essence as he pounded into her with increasing fervor. 

 

Belle’s face scrunched in effort, having been brought to the edge of her peak so much already that she feared the intensity of it, but Rumple slid a hand between them, placing a finger to her sensitive nub. Belle screamed, waves of pleasure overtaking her. They both felt the fluttering of her walls as they clamped and squeezed his cock, pulling him deeper inside. Her hips lifted as the tension broke, and a stream of creamy fluid squirted from deep inside her as Rumple continued to thrust. 

 

“Oh, fuck!” Rumple groaned, and as her wetness coated him he lost control, spilling himself deep within her with a shout, their cries echoing through the large room as they came in unison. As they crested the peak, they slumped together, sharing heavy breaths and small caresses as they drifted down from their high.

 

“Belle, sweetheart?” Rumple was the first to break the relaxed silence.

 

“Yes, my love?” Belle murmured drowsily, not opening her eyes.

Rumple propped himself on his side, one elbow out, his hand supporting his head.

 

“May I please use magic on that blasted dollhouse?”

 

Belle’s eyes flew open and she smiled, bringing one hand up to stroke her husband’s cheek.

 

“Okay. Because it’s Christmas.”

 

Rumple beamed, lifting his free hand, and snapped his fingers with a flourish.

 

~~

 

“Momma! Daddy!” Rose squealed as she tried to climb up into their bed, her little hands grabbing sheets and pulling them off her parents.

 

“Santa! Santa!” 

 

Belle woke with a start and smiled at her daughter, Rose’s blue eyes bright with excitement and her hair mussed from sleep. 

 

“Yes! Let’s wake up your father!” Belle said, pulling Rose with her into the bed and rolling toward Rumple. Rose climbed onto Rumple’s stomach and plopped down, her small hands framing his cheeks.

 

“Daddy up!” she ordered.

 

Rumple’s eyes opened slowly, and he grinned , the sight of his child the best first sight of the morning. 

 

“Oh, aye, and were you a good girl? Do you think Santa left you presents?” Rumple kidded his daughter.

 

The child nodded. “Rose is good!”

 

Rumple bear hugged Rose as he rose from the bed. Belle was already in her robe and brushing her teeth, and Rumple stumbled into the bathroom, plopping Rose on the vanity as he brushed his own. 

 

“Presents!” Rose squealed, any patience the two-year-old could muster on Christmas morning wearing thinner by the second.

 

Rumple dried his hands and lowered Rose to the floor.

 

“Okay, sweetheart, let’s go!”

 

Rose took off, running to the living area, as Rumple placed a chaste kiss on Belle’s cheek.

 

“Merry Christmas, my beautiful wife,” he said with a wink and a smile.

 

“Come on, Rumple!” Belle grabbed his hand and drug him after their daughter.

 

~~~

 

Much too soon, all the presents were unwrapped, Rose delighted to have received just about every toy she could imagine. She played with the dollhouse as Belle and Rumple began to pick up the discarded wrapping paper. 

 

Belle sorted through the piles of boxes and bows, flattening them out as she placed them in a large black trash bag.

 

“Wait, what is this?” Belle picked up a small, flat box, one they had must have missed in the Christmas morning melee. “Rosie! It’s one more present! It’s for you!” 

 

Rose bounded over to her mother, reaching  for the gift.

 

“Santa?” the toddler asked.

 

“It doesn’t say who it is from. It just says ‘Rose’ on it.” Belle smiled and handed the box to her daughter. “Here, take it to Daddy and have him help you open it,” she said as she placed more trash in the bag.

 

“Daddy do!” Rose pushed the gift to Rumple, who looked at it with a puzzled expression. 

 

“I wonder what this could be, Rose?” He was certain that he knew every gift she had under the tree. He had accompanied Belle on every last shopping expedition.

 

Rose tore at the paper, yanking the box from his hands as she did. Pulling apart the white cardboard box, she looked at her father with disappointment. 

 

“Clothes,” she deadpanned, dropping the white t-shirt to the floor and running off to resume her play.

 

“Where did it come from?” Rumple bent to retrieve the small, long-sleeved cotton shirt from the floor and holding it up at eye level. “Belle, did you get…” 

 

He stopped mid-sentence, his eyes growing wide as he unfolded Rose’s new shirt, embroidered with two butterflies and the words “Big Sister” scripted in pale purple. He lowered the shirt to find Belle staring back at him. The largest smile he had ever seen adorned her glowing face, and her eyes sparkled with happiness and mirth and love.

 

“Belle?” he croaked in joyful disbelief.

 

“Merry Christmas, Rumple,” she said, a single tear running down her cheek.

 

“Sweetheart, this is the best gift you could ever give me,” he said, rushing to Belle and pulling her into his arms.

 

“Yes,” she agreed, glancing at Rose playing under the Christmas tree “There’s no greater gift in the world than our family.” 

 


End file.
